But now Jo was reaching over. She was tugging at the buttons on his jeans, releasing his straining cock and it was all he could do to maintain focus on the road.
“Jo—babe—we can’t,” he groaned even as she started to squeeze and pull.
“Pull over somewhere,” she whispered. “Please.”
“There’s nowhere…”
But even as he said it, they were turning a corner and there was a sort of passing place—the entrance to an overgrown field—on the left.
Chris swung the car into it, manoeuvred under an overhanging hedge, and killed the engine.
There was a whirring noise as Jo released her seatbelt and then she was leaning down and his cock was in her mouth and suddenly he really couldn’t care less if someone happened to drive past.
Jo alternated between long, hard sucks and circling his very tip with her tongue, all the while making soft moaning sounds in the back of her throat.
With some difficulty, Chris got his hand under her and managed to undo his own seatbelt.
“Up here, Jo,” he forced out, heaving her under her arms when she didn’t seem to hear.
With a groan of protest, she allowed herself to be moved away, only for her eyes to light up when she realised his intent.
“Knickers off and get on top,” he ordered.
Jo obeyed at once and in no time at all, she was straddling him, sinking down onto his cock as he rose up to meet her.
With her skirt shielding what they were doing, Chris lost all interest in who might pass by and look in. Instead, he got a firm grip on her hips and forced her to plunge down harder and faster…over and over again.
He saw her wince a little each time her bottom made contact with his thighs and the sight just made him want her more. He put his hands under her skirt, found her still-warm bottom, and squeezed it hard.
And—oh God—the cry of mingled pain and pleasure that she let out just made his need for her all the more desperate.
He used his grip on her cheeks to pull her in harder and faster against him, grinding against her, pushing as deep as he could go.
And then she was writhing and moaning… he could feel her muscles clenching and contracting around him… he could see the look of almost-pain on her face as the climax ripped through her body…
And it was too much… Chris gasped and dug his fingers into Jo’s flesh as he came hard.
By the time he recovered himself, Jo had collapsed onto him, her arms wrapped loosely around his neck, her cheek resting on his shoulder.
Chris looked down into her half-closed eyes and shook his head with mock severity. “You really are a troublemaker, aren’t you?”
Jo grinned and kissed him on the chin. “You love it really.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
Jo scrolled down the laptop screen, narrowing her eyes as she searched for the perfect hotel for their anniversary. She was curled up on the sofa with the laptop balanced on her left thigh, surrounded by tattered pieces of Christmas wrapping paper, half-eaten boxes of chocolates, and presents that had not yet found a home.
What should we go for? she wondered. An old-fashioned stately home or something smart and stylish in the city?
As always, her mind drifted to which would be best in spanking terms. A grand country hotel would be secluded, but then a modern hotel with thousands of rooms would offer an element of anonymity.
She was just clicking on the link for a beautiful regency hotel near the sea when the door opened and Chris walked in, briefcase in hand.
“Oh—hi, sweetie,” she said, without looking up from the screen.
“Hi,” said Chris, although he didn’t sound very happy.
Jo looked back over her shoulder and saw him surveying the living room, frowning.
“What?” she said.
Chris put his briefcase down behind the sofa. “I thought you were going to tidy up today.”
“It’s Christmas!” Jo protested.
“No, it was Christmas nine days ago,” he replied, taking off his suit jacket and folding it over the back of the sofa. “And some of us have been back at work since Tuesday.”
Jo rolled her eyes and turned back to the laptop. “Yeah well, just because your job has shit holiday entitlement, you don’t have to take it out on me.”
“And now you’re being cheeky as well, are you?” Chris’s voice had taken on an ominous edge.
Jo felt a familiar shiver in her lower belly. She could sense Chris standing just behind her now, his hands resting on the back of the sofa. “No,” she said. “Sir,” she added, as an afterthought.
“I don’t believe you. Turn off the laptop and come here.”
“But I was in the middle of—”
“Now, Jo.”
Jo sighed and turned off the laptop, shifting it onto the sofa. Standing up was more of a challenge than she had been expecting and she groaned at the aches in her back and shoulders.
“Busy day, I take it?” asked Chris and now that she was standing up, Jo could see the sardonic, unimpressed expression on his face.
She bristled. “I am still on holiday, you know!”
“I do know,” he replied, “which is why I’d been cutting you some slack until now. But this morning I specifically asked you to please clean up a bit, and what have you done?” He made a point of taking a long look around the room. “Nothing,” he answered himself.
Jo crossed her arms across her chest and looked down at the carpet. “I was going to do it but I just… got distracted.”
“All day? What have you been doing?”
“Just… stuff.”
In her peripheral vision, Jo saw Chris fold his arms. “By ‘stuff’, I take it you mean ‘looking on the internet’?”
Jo forced herself to look up. Chris’s eyebrows were raised, and although his lips were quirked slightly upwards, there was a steeliness to his gaze that she had got to know quite well over the past couple of months. That look told her she was in for a spanking.
“It was for both of us, though,” she protested, in a last-ditch attempt to save herself.
“What was?”
“I was looking for a hotel for our anniversary.”
Chris let out an exasperated laugh. “Our anniversary isn’t until June!”
“Yeah, but there are loads of good deals at the moment.”
“Well, you should have looked for them after tidying up, shouldn’t you?” There was an air of finality to Chris’s voice now which clearly said that further argument would be pointless.
Jo sighed. “Yes, sir.”
“Good. Now take off your clothes and bend over the back of the sofa.”
“Oh…” Jo whined. She had been hoping to get away with a hand spanking but the over-the-back-of-the-sofa position usually meant the belt or—even worse—the slipper.
“Never mind ‘oh’; just do as you’re told,” he said and then he walked away into the kitchen.
Jo made a show of huffing but the throbbing between her legs had started up before she had even unbuttoned her jeans. She still didn’t understand how something that hurt so much could affect her on such a deep, primal level in this way, but it did. She didn’t just want to be punished; she ached for it.
Too bad wanting it didn’t make it hurt any less though.
She was just undoing her bra when Chris came back out of the kitchen with a long wooden spoon in his hand. That was new.
She gave Chris a pleading look but he just raised his eyebrows at her again.
“There’s no point looking at me like that, Mrs Butler,” he scolded. “If you insist on being a neglectful housewife, then don’t act surprised when I spank you with kitchen implements.”
“But it’s made of wood…”
“Yes, it is,” he agreed. “Now stop stalling and do as you’re told.”
With a more pronounced huff, Jo undid her bra and threw it down onto the pile of her clothes on the floor. She then dragged her knickers down to her ankles and kicked them a
side.
The moment her knickers were out of the way, Chris caught her around the waist and tipped her over the back of the sofa. As Jo squeaked in shocked protest, bracing herself against the sofa cushions, Chris adjusted her position until her bottom was resting on the very top of the sofa, pointing up into the air.
Oh God, it was humiliating! Jo’s feet couldn’t reach the floor and were just hanging in nothingness. She could just picture the sight of herself with her bottom thrust up into the air.
“Starting to feel sorry, are we, Jo?” There was just a hint of amusement in Chris’s voice.
“Yes, sir,” she whispered, already twitching slightly in anticipation of the first stroke as Chris positioned himself behind her.
“Right,” said Chris, tapping the spoon lightly against Jo’s bottom. “How many hours have I been at work today?”
“Umm… seven?”
Chris gave a grim laugh. “Nice try, Jo. I left here nine hours ago. So that’s nine with the spoon and one extra, I think, for all that huffing just now.”
“I wasn’t—”
“You’re not actually thinking of arguing with me when you’re in this position, are you Jo?” Chris asked, tapping the spoon more firmly against her bottom.
Oh no, even when he was doing it lightly, it stung. Jo hated wooden things; they were just so solid, so unyielding.
“No, sir,” she replied at once.
“Are you sure? Because I would really hate to have to make it twelve…”
“I’m sure! Please sir… I’m sorry…”
Another laugh. “We’ll see about that.”
As she felt Chris draw back the spoon, Jo gritted her teeth and clenched her muscles in anticipation.
And then she cried out as stinging pain exploded across her right cheek.
Oh, why did wooden things have to hurt so much? What if this was as bad as that time he had spanked her with the wooden clothes brush at that old guest house in the Lake District?
The next stroke brought the same burning pain to her left cheek.
“Oww… please…”
“Shush,” said Chris, pressing firmly on her lower back to hold her in place.
Three more strokes followed in quick succession and now the whole of Jo’s bottom felt as though it were on fire.
“Oh… oh… I really am sorry…” she whimpered, gripping handfuls of the sofa cushions for support.
“Glad to hear it,” said Chris, “but you’ve still got five more to come.”
Jo let out a despairing moan which turned into a shriek as the spoon struck her bottom again. She kicked out and her legs flailed about in the air behind her.
“Keep your legs still, Jo,” said Chris. That steely edge was back in his voice. “If you start kicking again, you’ll be getting extra. Is that clear?”
“Y-yes, sir.”
“Good.”
The seventh stroke was the hardest yet and Jo screamed into the sofa cushions, trying with all her might not to twist and kick her legs.
“Are you going to be letting the flat get this messy again, Jo?” asked Chris, already lining up the next stroke.
“No, sir!” she gasped, panting and trembling now.
“No, you won’t,” he agreed and then the eighth stroke hit home.
Jo wailed, gripping the cushions so tightly that her knuckles had turned white. She could feel tears welling up in her eyes.
After the ninth stroke, the tears were spilling down her cheeks.
As Chris lined up the final stroke, she started to sob.
“Nearly over, sweetheart,” he murmured, tapping the spoon lightly against her sore skin.
Jo took a gulping breath and steeled herself, blinking away tears.
And then the wooden spoon struck her bottom for the tenth time, the stinging pain engulfed her, and it was finally over.
Slowly, gradually, Jo’s gulping sobs petered away to soft whimpers.
Chris stroked her back and her sore bottom, bringing her back to herself. “Good girl,” he whispered. “Come here, sweetheart.”
She didn’t even try to resist as he drew her up to her feet and then picked her up in his arms.
Resting her head on his shoulder, she looked around in a sort of daze as he carried her into the bedroom and laid her down on the bed. Her body felt warm and heavy. The insistent throb in her bottom didn’t feel like pain anymore.
“Chris…”
She reached for him and he was there. His lips were soft as he kissed her, gently at first and then more firmly as his desire rose to meet hers.
“I want you,” whispered Jo, her cheeks sticky with drying tears.
Chris kissed down her throat and then shifted down to her breasts. He took her right nipple into his mouth and sucked as he fumbled with the zipper of his trousers.
In no time at all, his cock was free and Jo arched up to meet him as he plunged inside her.
Jo wrapped her legs around his back and pressed herself upwards, pushing up against him as he ground down into her.
It didn’t take much. In spite of—or maybe because of—the tears, her body was ready, so ready.
And soon she was screaming again, only this time it was pleasure, not pain, that ripped the sounds out of her mouth, that made her buck and writhe and flail on the bed.
In the midst of her own ecstasy, she heard Chris’s cry of pleasure.
And then they collapsed together, a warm tangle of limbs, and everything was quiet and peaceful.
“Jo?” said Chris after what felt like hours.
“Hmm?” murmured Jo, who had been teetering on the edge of sleep.
“Did you ‘forget’ to tidy up on purpose?”
Jo gave a sleepy giggle. “Um… maybe.”
Chris laughed and kissed her on the forehead. “Troublemaker,” he growled.
The End
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Table of Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Table of Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixte
en
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Troublemaker Page 10